CHAPTER 6

I think I was having a mid-life crisis at the age of twenty. How that was even possible I didn’t know but I’ll say this, waking up knowing that I was a whole year older certainly did not put a smile on my face. I was finally out of my teenage years but still figuring out why I was lurking around on planet Earth.

Staring at the ceiling as I lay in bed I wondered what I’d done with my life so far. Well I did still have a healthy five figure sum in my bank account, but that wasn’t the point. I mean at the age of twenty people already have a mortgage, have become CEOs, married and have at least two baby fathers or mothers.

The previous night I had been on the phone to Angelo – I’d like to take this moment to just appreciate how awesomingly refreshing it was being on the same time zone as my boyfriend – it felt spectacular.

Unfortunately, we didn't talk for long because he was studying and me being the awesome girlfriend that I was didn't want to disturb him. But I still wanted someone to talk to, Dominica was off in Paris and from past experience I knew not to call her past midnight, because that girl would turn to Michael Jackson in the thriller video if I did.

So I turned to Gabino instead. He and I spoke for hours until the early hours of the morning and that's why when I woke up three hours later a sharp throbbing headache pulsated from the centre of my temple, as I had to wake up to get the kids ready for school and make their breakfast. It was my birthday but it was work as usual.

The Almas' totally surprised me with a winter fur jacket that they gave me. I wasn't even expecting a gift from them, but as I said before – best foster parents ever. They came in very handy as summer would soon be ending and I hadn't really expected to have been in Madrid for the winter so I hadn't packed for that. They’d also given me another night and next day off too (they were just spoiling me!) so they could spend some good quality time with their kids and I could spend some good quality time with my boyfriend.

Earlier in the morning, Angelo had called me wishing me a happy birthday but he’d sounded real tired so we’d made brief plans to see each other back at the hotel later on, before telling him to get some sleep. After all, he was leaving in two days, and then he would be fully busy with med school, and the one hundred and one things going on whilst I got my hands full with two kids and planning my tour of Europe.

The situation between me and Angelo – urgh. Actually I didn't want to call it a situation because I don't know if it was a situation – yet. But I was feeling some type of way, like he was just dismissing me and not taking my concerns seriously. I don't know, either way I was feeling some type of way.

Anyways after I got the kids to school, I headed over to meet up with Sara on set after promising to do so the last time we spoke on the phone.

Entering into a full production studio, I was overwhelmed with the chaos of activity. Seeing Sara high up sat in her director's chair and megaphone at hand looked so befitting for her.

Angelo had told me that she was directing and producing a comedy telenovela set in Moorish Spain. Not wanting to act the dumb ass in front of my boyfriend's mother I thought it was best to educate myself beforehand just so she would be impressed by me.

Having a smart-ass boyfriend definitely had its perks but it also meant that I had to step up on my game and know my shit too, lest he think that I was brainless.

I jumped out of shock hearing Sara scream into the megaphone, I guessed it had to do with the guy holding the boom mike. He was holding it too low and she could see it in the shot frame as the camera was infront of her.

It took a little while before she even noticed that I was there but when she did notice, her face instantly broke into a smile and I felt a little proud of myself that I had been the cause of it.

“Hello chica, mija Happy Birthday!”

Then she proceeded to grab the megaphone and announce to all approximately hundred people on set that it was my birthday (like they cared or knew me) and demanded they sing happy birthday.

Even though it was pretty much embarrassing having strangers singing happy birthday to me in Spanish I couldn't stop laughing at how enthusiastic she looked.

I watched her climb off her majesty the director's chair.

“Oh chica, I've missed you so much,” she said as she climbed off her majesty the director's chair before hugging me tightly.

Again, I jumped out of my skin when out of nowhere, I heard her shout in the microphone.

I presumed she told everyone to take a break as everyone went crowding around the buffet area set up.

“So how are you?”

“I'm good, thank you Sara, and you?”

“Oh I'm okay chica, it's just this show is a lot of work, but everyone is so wonderful and working hard to make it a success.”

“Yeah it does look like hard work but I'm sure you will do the best job and I can't wait to watch it. The Moorish history and impact is something that I don't believe has been appreciated enough, and I just can't wait to see the angle you're going to take on it.”

“Oh how did you know it was the Moors the show was based on?”

I didn't want to tell her that Angelo had been the one to tell me, I just wanted to sound smart and shit.

“Well y'know just the whole set design.”

Turning to one of her assistants lingering beside her she said, “Remind me to tell Marco what a great job he did.”

Grabbing a red lipstick, and compact mirror she started applying the cosmetic on her lips. “One of my extras had diarrhoea and had to go home. We need to desperately wrap this scene up,” and that's when Sara's eyes bored into mine.

My heart was beating really fast as I knew where Sara was going to go with this.

“Would you mind playing one of the concubines? You only have like five words to say.”

“Sarah really I'm not an actress and I just was not prepared for this. I'm sure you can find somewhere else.” I answered, feeling squirmish over the idea of my face being put on camera.

“Please chica. You'd be doing me the biggest favour,” she said pleading with her eyes that were already compelling me to give in to her.

It was obvious to anyone who was close enough to see the interaction between Sara and I that I did not want to do it. Even Sara’s assistant looked like she felt sorry for me.

“Sara I can't.”

“Why not chica?”

I almost laughed at the expression on her face as Angelo had the same face when he didn't have things his own way. What can I say? Like mother, like son.

Just because I had gotten a little better at handling my insecurities, did not mean I was a pro or that I walked around like I was a Nubian princess or some shit.

To be honest I had gotten better at managing my body image insecurities because I barely had time to mope around doing nothing. In between taking care of the kids, going to language school, figuring out my next steps, I was pretty busy but this - appearing on living colour television (I didn't even own a single photo of myself on my phone) playing an extra that could potentially be seen by millions, no, this was way out of my comfort zone and into another galaxy.

It was just too much for me.

“I’m just not comfortable.”

When push came to shove, Sara had thrust me in front of the bulls.

“Chica, you’d be fine. We’re going to have you wearing a beautiful silk gold dress and a white headwrap, we'll get your make up done too and all you have to say is 'sir, you're drink', of course in Arabic.”

I sighed knowing that no matter what I said, she’d find something else to try and convince me – it was Sara – she always won.

“Fine, I’ll do-“

“Perfect,” her eyes shone in glee as she turned to her assistant and spoke to her in rapid Spanish.

“Clara is going to take care of you. She’ll give you a script and Arabic translator is going to be there to help you practise your lines whilst getting ready. It’s going to be wonderful chica, thank you so much for doing this!”

Without being able to reply, I was whisked away. Now that I’d decided to do this, I really wanted to make sure that I did it right. Sara had faith in me and I didin’t want to disappoint her.

With all these racking nerves, I could feel myself getting anxious and I really wished Angelo was there to help me calm down.

What had I gotten myself into?

I tried to think of any and everything to convince myself that I would be fine, including it’d make a pretty good story to tell the grandkids or anyone for that matter.

There was thousands of wannabe actors and actresses working as waiters, bussing tables in Hollywood waiting for their ‘big break’ – and here was me basically given the opportunity unasked and I was shying away from it.

I’d never taken any acting classes, my only acting credentials was back in second grade when I’d been one of the shepherds in the nativity play. Now just how long ago was that?

“Cinco minutos antes de comenzar a filmar!”

I’d been able to pick on the key words and realised that Sara had just announced that there was only five minutes before everyone had to go back on set…including me.

Oh God help.

Scrambling, I set my eyes on the page of the script where my line had been highlighted with a green marker.

'Oh my gosh, what am I doing? Oh God, please help me,' I kept chanting in my head as the man assigned to help me pronounce the words in Arabic properly infront of me whilst the make-up artist applied some concealer and foundation on the teabags underneath my eyes – let’s just say I needed quite a bit.

Never in my life did I think that my face could end up on TV. This shit didn’t happen to someone like me.

What felt like ten seconds later, and Sara was back on the megaphone, calling people to position on set.

I joined the cast, they’d all mostly gone into character mode, as Sara gave a few instructions.

The set design was actually pretty impressive, no one would ever guess that we weren’t actually in a palace but instead a studio.

“Acción!”

That jolted me back to reality or in this case, fiction. The cameras were rolling, my nerves were touching the roof. My hands as usual whenever I got nervous was sweating, pretty badly, so embarrassing. I really did not want to wipe it on the dress I was wearing in case it smudged and Sara could see it. And I know she'd see it cos that woman had eyes of an eagle.

I was supposed to come on to the scene after the chief ruler person sent some message to the guards or something - shows how much I’d read from the script.

I was worried that my sweat would also make me drop my prop which was a silver platter that carried the empty goblet.

“Where is my concubine?!”

I almost dropped the cup as Sara shouted into the microphone and I hurried onto the set, but I was too late.

“Cut!”

“I’m sorry, Sara,” I said feeling myself getting flush with embarrassment, as the other actors had nailed their part, but I ruined it and they’d have to do it again because of me.

I wasn't used to this shit.

“Chica, you have to pay more attention.”

It took five tries before I got my part, just about right. Surprisingly the other actors were pretty nice but I’m sure they were thinking how I could possibly have been qualified as an actress with all the silly mistakes I was making. A little bit of cronyism could get you anywhere, my friends as it's said, who you know is better than what you now.

Now I had au-pair and actress to add to my resume.

But boy was I glad when I left the set. Before I could rush off to change, Sara grabbed me by the arm, hugging me tight saying what a wonderful job I did, despite the fact that by the fourth take, I thought she was going to leap out of her chair to strangle me so it was just as well that I got it right the last time.

Then she proceeded to hand me my present in a light pink bulky box. I opened it and it was a really nice watch that I know would have cost some really nice money too.

“Thank you Sara, but you really didn’t have to,” I said putting the watch back in its case. I’d instantly become a watch person with this present.

“Ah don’t worry about it. ”

Half an hour late and I was back in the car going home to prepare dinner, before I went to pick the kids up from school. It was totally crazy how the day had gone. And there I was driving casually like I hadn’t just played a small role in something big, literally.

The contrast in the day was almost mind-blowing.

But as it was, that is really what happened that yours truly had become a little actress.

By the time, I got back to the house, I had put the events of earlier to the back of my mind as I fully got stuck in to the task at hand.

Both Pepito and Candela had been sweet to me. Little Miss Diva to save me her last cookie that she'd made at kindergarten. When I took it out the paper bag, I could see she’d bitten a huge chunk out of the chocolate chip cookie, and so when I asked her why there was only one third left out of my supposedly “birthday gift” she said that she was hungry.

I could only laugh at her, she was ever so adorable.

Time passed quickly and by the time I knew it, it was time for me to head over to meet up Angelo at the hotel.

The sciatic theatrics had begun again so instead of taking the metro as I’d intended to, I booked for a taxi to pick me up.

Comfort over cost, I say.

I was actually pretty tired out by the time I knocked on his room door. When Angelo opened the door, my face instantly lit up. This guy has really got me good.

“Happy birthday, darling,” and before hearing my reply he’d dragged me by the wrist inside and slammed me on the door before kissing the life out of me.

His soft hands ran over my body, and I instantly cowered to his tender touch. I knew if I let it get any further, I’d be having another birthday gift.

“Ang, we need to slow down.”

In between locked lips and moans, I heard him say, “Oh we'll slow it down, we'll go at your pace.”

And then he proceeded to take off my jacket painfully slow, kissing my exposed arm inch by inch, when I just wanted him to rip it off me.

Angelo was undoing me.

“I want you so much,” Angelo said as he went back up gently sucking the side of my neck and I raked my hands through his soft hair.

His lips and hands kept wandering all over my submissive body. And everywhere he was touching was catching heat.

“Ang…hm, we have to stop.”

“Or do we?”

At his question, our eyes met. It took a while before I could answer as I was floating between arousal and reason.